


He really did love you

by Holly_Spell



Series: Writing Prompts [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex my poor baby, Angst, Death, Depression, I am so sorry, M/M, Sad, Suicide, and my poor jefferson as well, there is literally no fluff, very sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 08:44:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7838188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holly_Spell/pseuds/Holly_Spell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of the writing prompt that I found that is </p>
<p>"Sometimes Memories are the worst form of torture"</p>
            </blockquote>





	He really did love you

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!~
> 
> I wrote this in one day at 2am. So idk how great it is. But I really wanted to write this, and once I started, I couldn't stop.
> 
> Enjoy!~

   It had been a beautiful summer day. The birds may not have been singing. The sun may not have been completely shining. But to Alexander, the quiet was nice and he appreciated not having the sun glaring in his eyes on his way to work. It had been a beautiful day. Alexander had somehow gotten a good night’s rest the night before and had eaten that morning. His clothes had been clean and neatly pressed and he had a cup of coffee in his hand. Alexander had also been especially pleased that he had hit almost no traffic on the way to work as well as every green light on the way there. 

   Alexander had walked into the office in a cheerful mood. He had greeted the young woman at the front desk and got into the elevator smiling. He had been excited to see Secretary Jefferson today and show him the revisions on his debt plan. The elevator had dinged and Alexander had stepped out with enthusiasm. 

   “Morning Thomas!” Alexander had said, passing Jefferson’s office.

   “Hamilton,” Jefferson had grumbled with disdain, not even looking up from his computer. Alexander just shrugged it off. He had been in too much of a good mood to let Jefferson piss all over him.

   Hamilton had shrugged off his leather coat and draped it across the back of his chair and set his leather briefcase on the right side of his wooden desk. He had fired up his computer and logged in, excited to pull up his new and improved plan. 

   “Hamilton. Your happiness is truly draining. Please tone it down with the smiling, you may scare people,” Jefferson had said morosely from down the hall. 

   “Oh shut up Thomas,” Hamilton had called out of his door. “You know you love me.”

   Jefferson had scoffed and hadn’t even dignify Alexander with a response.

   Hamilton had worked on his plan for a few more hours writing and rewriting almost everything until he was finally satisfied. He had shut his computer with satisfaction and decided to go out for lunch. He had got up and put his jacket on.

   “Hey Tom!” Hamilton had said, leaning against the doorframe of the Secretary of State’s office.

   “Hamilton. If you would please leave, that would be absolutely lovely,” Thomas had said in a dead tone.

   “Come on Jefferson. Have you eaten lunch yet?” Hamilton had asked. Jefferson had shaken his head but still had refused to look away from his computer.

   “Would you like to come out with me? A Panera just opened up down the street and I was thinking we could go and try it out? I have heard that their mac and cheese is phenomenal,” Hamilton had said, attempting to entice Jefferson and get him out of the office. Jefferson just shook his head.

   “No Hamilton. I think I will pass on going out and arguing with you in public,” Jefferson had said dryly. Hamilton’s smile had faltered a bit. He hadn’t wanted to argue with Thomas. He had just wanted to grab some lunch and perhaps discuss the debt plan. Mainly, Alexander didn’t want to eat alone because that would be awkward. 

   “Please Jefferson? I don’t want to argue. Just lunch,” Hamilton had said. Jefferson had shrugged. He had been glued to his computer and had refused to look up. Hamilton had shrugged and walked away. Alexander’s mood had been considerably dampened from his interaction with Jefferson. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He had not been acting like himself. The Jefferson Alexander had known would not have passed up macaroni and cheese. The Jefferson Alexander had known was more caring than he acted. But this Jefferson had been cold, and Alexander was worried about how ruthless he could be to Alexander. Alexander had his heart so open and vulnerable for Jefferson, and Jefferson didn’t even know it. He hadn’t  know how much Hamilton valued his opinion. And if Alexander had had his way, Thomas would never know. 

   Hamilton had walked into Panera and had ordered two macaroni and cheeses as well as two drinks and two brownies. He had decided to take them to go so that he could still give Thomas some sort of lunch, even if he didn’t want to eat it with Hamilton. 

   Alexander had walked back into the building and had knocked on Jefferson’s door.

   “Come in Alexander,” Jefferson had said. Alexander had laughed. 

   “I brought you lunch,” Alexander had said, holding out the bowl and fork. Jefferson had turned and had given Alexander a small smile.

   “Thanks Alex,” Thomas had said. Alexander had smiled again.

   “I brought you sweet tea and a brownie,” Alexander had said, holding them both out. Jefferson had taken them and had set them on his desk. 

   “Sit down Alexander,” Jefferson had said. Hamilton had swallowed and had sat down in the spare chair in the corner. Jefferson had shut his computer and opened up the bowl. Hamilton had done the same and started eating.

   “Thanks,” Jefferson had said.

   “What?” Alexander had said, looking up with a mouth full of noodles. Jefferson had let out a breathy laugh.

   “I said thanks,” Thomas had said.

   “For what Thomas?” Alexander had said, cocking his head to the left and staring into Thomas’ dark eyes. Alex had sworn that he could look into those dark eyes for the rest of eternity.

   “For getting me lunch even though I was acting like an ass,” Thomas had said, breaking eye contact to look into his bowl, as if there were some sort of visual treasure hunt going on inside. 

   “Any time Thomas. Any time,” Alexander had said with a smile. Thomas had smiled back. 

   They had eaten in silence until Washington had come into the room and had asked for Hamilton. Hamilton had given Jefferson a small wave goodbye and had thrown his trash into the trash can in Jefferson’s office. 

   The meeting with Washington had gone slowly but it had not been anything really important. Alexander had been excited to see Jefferson after the meeting, but apparently the meeting had run long. Hamilton had walked up to Jefferson’s office only to have found it empty with the lights off. Hamilton had just shrugged and had just decided to go home. He had packed up everything with a carefree attitude and had waltzed out of the office at a reasonable hour. 

   Alexander had gotten into his car and had cranked up the radio, singing along to anything that came up. He had gotten stuck in traffic when the sky had opened up and poured rain. He had flipped on his windshield wipers and had continued to jam along to the Top 40 Hits. He had gotten home in the torrential rainfall and decided to make himself some sort of food. But when that had failed, he had decided to call up Thomas to see if he could maybe come over and help Alexander cook. Thomas’ phone had rung and then gone to voicemail, which Hamilton had thought to be a bit weird. He had sat curled up on his couch scrolling through his phone absentmindedly until his phone had rung bringing him the worst news of his life.

   Thomas Jefferson was dead. Thomas had killed himself. The news had hit Alexander like a tidal wave hits a small coastal town. It had felt like he was drowning. He couldn’t breathe or think. Angelica had driven by and dropped off Thomas’ letter so that Alexander could have it. In the beginning, he hadn’t wanted it. It had been a reminder that Thomas was gone. After about a week, Alexander had decided to read it.

_    Dear everyone, _

_    If you are reading this, it means that I have died. This is good. Do not weep for I am where I finally want to be. I will no longer be a bother. Everyone can finally get the stuff done that they wanted to get done that I have stood in the way of for so long. I am glad that this country shall improve further without me in its offices.  _

_    Alexander. My dearest Alexander. I have loved you for quite some time now. Please know that this is not your fault. I have understood for quite some time now that you do not feel the same about me, which is understandable. I am a hard one to love. I fought with you tooth and nail against all of your beliefs and never let you win. Please keep me in your head and please make sure to love John as much as I would have liked you to love me. Please be happy with yourself. Your debt plan is superb and your writing is phenomenal. You are the most brilliant man that I have ever known. I am incredibly thankful for the time that you have spent with me. You have made me smile and laugh even when I have not wanted to, either with your arguments or with your outrageous behaviour. Unfortunately, I cannot stay here with you. I was selfish enough to think that I could be loved by anyone. I was foolish enough to believe that someone as intelligent and beautiful as you could ever love someone as brash and ill-advised as me.  _

_    Do not weep for me. I am begging you. Please let me die in peace. PLease let me rest in peace.  _

_    Regards, _

_       Thomas Jefferson _

   Alexander’s tears had fallen upon the paper on which Jefferson’s last words were written. Alexander had tried to prevent them from falling, but midway through the letter, they had just started coming. 

   Alexander had locked himself into his room and screamed. He had screamed until his voice had gone out. And even once his voice was gone, he had continued to scream. His tears had never ceased. Alexander could physically feel the pain that Jefferson leaving had caused. It had felt like there was a hole in his chest. Like someone had torn a lung out and now there was just an empty cavity where it used to have been. 

   The next stage that Alexander had gone through was numbness. He had no longer cried. He had just felt numb, like he was a robot going through life. He didn’t go to work. He didn’t sleep. He had been halfway hoping that the mixture of exhaustion and sleep deprivation would kill him. But just like during the hurricane and the sickness, Alexander could not seem to die. Instead, dark half circles had made themselves permanent fixtures under Alexander’s eyes. It was like the night sky herself had settled to sleep under his eyes. There had been permanent valleys between his ribs and large gullys between his hips from not eating. 

   A few weeks after Thomas’ funeral, Alexander had decided to visit work again. He had not wanted to go to Jefferson’s office, but he had somehow ended up there. The door had creaked open and the smell of Jefferson had immediately hit Alexander. It had smelled like sandalwood and vanilla along with scotch. It had smelled expensive and so much like what Alexander had wanted to smell every day. Alexander had wanted to wake up smelling that smell. Alexander had slowly sunk so the floor an had somehow gotten ahold of Jefferson’s hideous magenta velvet bomber jacket that he had loved so damn much. Alexander had pulled it around him and had thought of all of the times Thomas had worn it. 

   He had worn it during their first cabinet meeting. That was the day that Alexander had fallen in love with him. Thomas had looked so beautiful there. His hair had been wild and his eyes had been filled with fire. He had so much life in his body. He knew right away how to push Alexander’s buttons. He had gotten Alexander to stand on a chair so that he had been on literal higher ground. 

   Thomas had worn it every time he would smirk at Alexander behind Washington’s back. He had worn it when he and Alexander went to a park after Washington had told them both to cool off. 

   Thomas had worn it when Alexander had gotten stuck in the rain and was lost. Thomas had made Alexander spend the night at his house because he claimed that Washington would kill him if Alexander were dead. 

   These memories kept coming in waves while Alexander walked out of the office and into his car.

   It was raining again. The rain was falling so quickly that Alexander could hardly see in front of him. He still had Jefferson’s coat wrapped around him. He could still smell that stupid cologne that Jefferson had sprayed everywhere.

   Alexander turned onto a side road that was empty and had trees surrounding it. He couldn't live without Jefferson. He couldn't live without the constant picking and the petty banter. It would be too quiet at the office. Alexander could not see Jefferson’s office filled by some kid. 

   Alexander pressed the gas pedal to the floor of the car.

   He replayed every happy memory that he and Jefferson had had. 

   “Sometimes memories are the worst form of torture,” Alexander thought to himself.

   He jerked the steering wheel to the left sharply and felt the car skid underneath him. He feels it crash into the tree and feels his head smack against his side window. His eyes close and he can feel the blackness encroaching upon his vision. He has one last thought before he fully goes under.

_  Oh I can’t wait to see you again, it is only a matter of time. _

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo~
> 
> I am so sorry to rip out your poor fanperson heart like that. It must have really sucked...
> 
> Please leave a comment if you liked it or if you didn't like it!
> 
> Have a wonderful day!!


End file.
